


The Distant Music

by thesalsagamer396



Series: Blackwatch Jazz [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And we all love him for it., Blackwatch Era, Gabe is a bit of a butthead., Gen, Jesse is coming out of his shell, Reaper76 if you squint, Shy!Jesse, a bit of gay sparring, and he's still too young to drink!, dad!gabe, there is a party and jesse is not invited yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesalsagamer396/pseuds/thesalsagamer396
Summary: Every month for three years, he's heard the distant music. But, what's it for?





	The Distant Music

He followed the sound of music that echoed off the walls around him. It wasn’t the first time he’s heard music echoing down the halls of Blackwatch territory. No, he’s been hearing it once a month since he joined. Every 15th of a month, music echoed proudly throughout the immediate base. Most regular members of Overwatch were too far away to hear it. But Jesse McCree was Blackwatch. He heard it all too well.

He could feel a sort of bass beat echoing into his chest on every beat. The bass going through his body was almost enough to make him dance on his own. He didn’t want to stop, though.

He’s been in Blackwatch for three years, and he never went out of his way to find the music. It just seemed like invading on a tradition to him. And yes, he knows that the Strike Commander said to start taking up more space, but he couldn’t help it. He spent several years making himself small and discreet unless he was in a fight. He had it down to an art form. It was a way of life to him. A survival tactic. And he hasn’t been kicked out yet, so it was working as far as the cowboy was concerned.

He’s been getting much better at it, but he still had been keeping to himself. He shut himself away as much as he could before his C.O literally drags the poor cowboy out of his room to spar against him. The longest he’s ever lasted against the super soldier was about one minute.

So what if most of his sauntering and swagger was faked some of the time? Doesn’t everyone fake confidence?

But, now he couldn’t take it. Every month on the 15th, music would burst through the rec room.

The scrawny young man wasn’t sure if he was expecting something else. The rec room was filled with his fellow agents, all of them with a red cup in their hands. The music was thumping and bumping from the speakers scattered in the large room. A party. Suddenly, Jesse felt he really was trespassing. If this was a party, then there was a reason to celebrate. And he didn’t know what they were partying for. Let it be known that if there was one thing Jesse McCree was not, it was an actual party crasher.

Backing away before someone sees him was the best way out of this. A swift escape was too easy when most of the party goers were already so drunk.

He ran to the training room. It was really the only place to go to besides his room. He just wanted to get away from the music. And the training room was padded for the most part. It was usually quiet if left empty.

Which it wasn’t.

Just his luck to run into not one, but both super soldiers sparring against each other on the mat.

Currently, Jack was being pinned down with Gabriel’s dark foot on his face and an elbow digging into the small of his back.

“Tap out, Jackie!”

“Never!”

Unleashing the strength to stand up with the added weight of another super soldier, Jack flipped them so that he was on top of the other. He got both of his opponent’s arms pinned behind his back. He was effectively sitting on Gabe.

“You look good down there, Gabbie,” he joked, patting the Blackwatch Commander on the butt, a smirk displayed proudly on his face.

“Laugh it up, blondie,” Gabe grunted with his face on the mat, slightly muffling his voice. He tapped the mat three times, and Jack got off his body.

The two got back into position for another round before they noticed they had an audience of one.

“Jesse. Decided to not be a hermit today? Didn’t even have to drag you out here.”

Jesse walked over to the soldiers so that they could hold a conversation without raising any voices. “Jus’ found out what the music’s all ‘bout…Wassit for, though?”

“There need to be a reason to party, McCree?”

“There’s a party?”

“Blackwatch only, boyscout.”

Jack rolled his eyes and let out a groan. You could see the hope in his eyes just go out. What a jerk move, Reyes.

“Jessito, you gonna train?”

“Ah…Ah dunno.”

“Why don’t you go join the party, Agent? It’d do you some good.”

“He’s not allowed. He’s still a baby,” he chuckled, lifting Jesse’s Stetson and ruffling the brown mop of hair that was hidden underneath. “He’s not drinking that poison until he’s of legal age.”

“But…Wassit for?! Y’ain’t tellin’ me nothin’!”

“Celebrating life, mijo. Another month being alive and still fighting. Isn’t that worth celebrating in this line of work?”

“Well then why y’ain’t there with’m?”

“Because, and who would have thought, super soldiers can’t get drunk,” Jack blurted out before Gabriel could respond himself. The man responded with a pointed glare to the blonde. “Oh, don’t be like that. The kid deserves the real reason.”

“Ah ain’t no kid!”

That got a laugh out of the two of them.

“You really are, Agent McCree. And you always will be.”

“Ahhhhh…Anyway, the _actual_ reason is because I simply don’t want to.”

“He needs to maintain his edgy image so that he can scare you lot to do training.”

“Don’t start with this again. I’m going to punch you.”

“That a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.”

Even here, Jesse felt like he was intruding. It was rare to see both soldiers doing something together that wasn’t required. Even more rare to see them joking around together. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that they were such close friends.

They were training together now because the party meant they could be alone. This was meant to be a private moment. He was intruding.

“A-Ah should go…Letcha git back t’ yer trainin’.”

“Nonsense! You look like you could use a match or two against a super soldier, Agent. Gabe, how often do you spar with him?”

“Not enough.”

“Come on, kid. You and me.”

“Wait what?! Ye tryin’ t’ kill me?! Yer a super soldier, an’ Ahm a twig!” Not to mention that this was Strike Commander John “Jack” Morrison. If Jesse was to land a good hit on him and break something, he will be held responsible. That meant a trial. And that would mean jail. His second chance in life would be for nothing because he was stupid enough to fight someone so important. This was nothing that the cowboy wanted to go through.

“Come on, live a little, Jessito. If you can last two minutes against him without hitting the mat, I’ll take you out and let you pick something out in a novelty shop, and I’ll pay for it.”

How could Jesse say no to an offer like that? What else was he going to do, anyway? Go back to his room and mope around while the sound of thumping music bled through the shabby walls? The sound of other people enjoying themselves and celebrating the gift of life?

No. He spent three years not doing anything about the music. Jesse knew he needed to really start taking up space. He stepped onto the mat and got into a fighting stance, watching the blonde soldier do the same.

Jesse came out of that spar with a broken arm, a twisted ankle, and a new “BAMF” belt buckle to add to his collection of novelty belt buckles.


End file.
